Choose
by PhantomAngel14
Summary: Erik has left the opera Populaire along with his mask. But masks can be remade... When the London opera opens after remodeling, a young girl comes and captures the heart of many with her quick feet that always itch to be onstage, but she captures the heart of someone else... Someone who is determined to get what he wants. Someone who may go past the point of no return to get it...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**  
Christine stood there with Raoul, and though she sung her love for the man next to her, she knew in her heart it was nothing but a lie. Tears dripped down an already tear stained face as she turned to look back at the creature who had professed his love only moments before she entered the boat.

**Erik's POV**

~~~~~~~~~~~  
Anger and defeat swept him into a rage as he realized he would never see Christine again. Seething, he picked up a brazier, and violently began to shatter the mirrors into smithereens. He lashed time after as many times as the glass would take it, and with one final blow he destroyed the last mirror.  
Glancing back, Erik felt sadness wash over him as he saw that Christine and Raoul were long gone. He heard the murderous cries of the mob, and he knew that if he didn't leave soon not only would he have lost Christine he would lose his very life.

_What is life without Christine anyway? _he thought. _Christine is my life! Without her I have no soul..._ _The only thing left is a shell of a man. "_And a pitiful excuse for one at that!" he snarled at himself.  
The chanting continued; the mob was drawing near. Soon it wouldn't be long before the bloodthirsty crowd had found their way down. He listened to the last sweet echoes of Christine's voice reverberating inside his head.  
Pulling down the curtain, he stepped over the the threshold into darkness; his feet crunching broken memories. He loped through the corridor remembering the way back to the village. He had familiarized himself with the traps in the theatre; and he took a left, knowing the right path would lead him to a dead end. There is a tunnel that closes off once you enter, and it floods with water.  
He had many close encounters with death as a small boy living and growing up in the theatre, and he felt as though he were the jailer of his own jail. He couldn't ever leave, and yet he was only one who had a key.  
He realized that he had reached the end of the tunnel. The door that locked him away from the rest of the world had remained unlocked just as he had left it. Thank God for he had left the extra key in his chambers. He knew going back now would mean committing suicide. No. He would have to exit through that door. He would have to step into winter and face life without the girl he loved.  
Although there was nothing to see in the corridor, Erik couldn't resist looking back over his shoulders. Perhaps it was because he was throwing away the only life he had ever known, or maybe it was the fact that if he stepped over the threshold he would be forced to be the Phantom in the dark, singing to himself to forget about what he endured; and perhaps he would sing for the pain he had caused...  
"Help me make the music of the night..."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**  
Marie stood on the cobblestone streets, shivering as she pulled the thin tweed shawl around her. It was deep into winter, and the girl did not have any protection from the cold icy blasts of wind coming from the north.  
She stared at the enormous building in front of her, and was nervous to go into the London opera for the first time. She looked up on the roof, and out of the corner of her she saw a cloaked figure all in black. A chill went up her spine as she realized it was watching her.

As soon as it appeared, it seemed to disappear. Leaving the girl to wonder if the cold and fright of being in a new place was getting to her head. She shrugged it off as her imagination and looked back to the cab she arrived in.  
Completely unawares as usual, Madame Beaulac handed the cab driver his fare and dropped the girl's bag in front of her. Marie leaned to pick it up, and she shuddered when her shawl blew away as a gust of snowy wind nearly shook her off her feet. She hurried after it, grabbing it off the street before it could blow away again. She clutched it ever tighter.  
" Bonte divine! Your lips are turning blue mademoiselle! We must get you inside as quickly as possible!"

She ushered the girl to pick her things up and they both hurried to the steps of the opera. The opera was huge, and it had been remodeled to resemble the opera Populaire that had burnt over a year ago.  
Marie remembered the story of the mysterious Phantom of the opera, and how he had a dreadful disfigurement on his face. She remembered someone mentioning a girl, Christine.

It had spooked her because she happened to the same name. Christine was her given name, but her mothers sister had always called her by her middle name Marie. She was a young girl blossoming into an eighteen year flower. Her birthday was coming up soon and she hoped that perhaps some of the girls might be kind enough to celebrate it with her.

As they stepped through the doors and went forwards to greet the managers, she was sure she wasn't imagining it. She was definitely being watched. She didn't hear much of the Messieurs as they greeted her she just shook her head numbly and kept one eye over her shoulders at all times. When they had finished speaking they showed her her quarters and where she would be rehearsing and where she ate and things like that.

They told her she was free to roam the opera house and with that her escorts deposited her in the ballet dormitories confused, cold, and lonely. She took in a ragged breath and placed her things neatly in her drawers. She walked to the door, her thin shoes hardly making any noise on the hard wood floor. She wandered the hallway, and she climbed stairs and peered through doors.

After it seemed like hours and she was sure she was lost with no help of finding her way back, she noticed a hidden hallway, and found herself looking down on the largest and most beautiful stage she had ever seen in her life. She knew she must have accidentally entered through one of the roper's hallways. She exited the stairs and stepped onto the stage. She was wearing an old pair of worn ballet slippers and she found herself starting to twirl and spin and leap across the stage, a strange music filling her heart.

Her chest heaving, she stopped twirling on the end of a note in her head. Then she remembered... That- that feeling that someone was watching her. Some entity she couldn't name. She had the feeling that whatever it was , it was pleased with her performance; she somehow almost felt the feeling that it expected her to do more. In light of what she just felt she was certain of one thing: she wasn't dancing for a ghost.


	3. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2**  
**Erik's POV**

He had been checking up on what his managers had been doing when he saw her. He had never given a second thought to women ever since Christine, but... this beautiful creature stood frozen in the streets. She was waiting on someone, and it didn't really occur to him that she might see him.

He wasn't actually sure how she managed to glimpse him but she did. And he could tell she knew he was following her through the opera. He liked having his presence known. It gave him a sense of authority to have her looking over her shoulder. Yes. He was good at manipulating.

He liked toying with her, and couldn't resist a devilish grin when he managed to duck out of her sight just in time. It was a game. He would slip slightly out of sight and come as close as he dared, and she would turn her head to find what was watching her, and there would be nothing but a stir where he had been.

He felt a little disappointed that she seemed to forget he was there as the imbeciles who run my theatre just left her there and slammed the door. She looked curious and I wanted her to see the stage, so I led her there without her iknowing I was there.

And then it happened. She danced so beautifully, I almost couldn't breathe right watching her. I decided to make my presence known to her. I dropped a rose with a black silk ribbon, wondering why I just did that. The girl looked pale and ran away.

Silently cursing myself, I swirled my cape and left. As I made my way down to my lair, I realized I had redecorated it practically the same as the old one. The opera had been built as an exact copy of the opera Populaire, and it astonished me how obsessive compulsive I really was.

Sighing, I took off my coat and hung it in my room. I had all my coats on a rung, and it was startling how OCD I really was. I was also starting to realize what had really happened earlier.

I had just presented this new girl, however beautiful, with Christine's token. _I really need to start thinking before I act_

**Marie's POV**

_I have no idea what just happened_, I thought nervously. _Wherever that rose came from, I need to find out_, she thought determinedly. She walked down and back through the halls and found the door to the stage.

She walked down the stairs, and stepped onto the stage. She found the rose, where it had dropped. She knelt and stroked the black silk of the flower, and heard the stage curtains rustle from an unknown wind and she stood and was about to run when a man's voice echoed through the opera.

" Your dance was beautiful, so very beautiful...I have been watching you move!"

She returned in kind, only changing her tune.

"Phantom of music, who speaks to me? Hide from me no longer."

"Innocent child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide. Come to the curtain draw nearer, I am there inside!"

She gasped as a cloaked figure swirled his cape and revealed himself from the black of the curtain. He was wearing a white mask on the right side of his face, and she knew. It was all true! There before her stood the phantom of the opera...

Slinking along the shadows he made his way toward her, and his eyes never left hers. She took in a nervous breath and asked a fateful question.

"Are you the phantom of the opera?"

Subtly was his specialty, and he answered her question with a statement.

"You have come here, to dance in my opera house and yet you do not know your master? Your master...

Marie looked him straight in the eyes, her heart pounding.

"And what might your name be Master?" The girl asked anxiously, worried that she had angered her managers boss.

"My name is Erik." he said quietly. Christine had never asked him what his name was, nor did it seem like she would be asking him anytime soon.

"Forgive me if I frightened you child, I was watching your performance, and there is something I should very much like to show you." he held out his hand and he walked her toward center stage.

"There is a move that I think will be helpful for you. Do the leap you did once more, only before jump, twirl on the tips of your toes then leap." she did as he commanded, and as soon as she did she walked back to him. She was glad to see approval gleam in his eyes as she walked back.

"Now, do the leap as I showed you, only add another move. Do the the toe twirl, leap midair, then in the middle of the leap split." he commanded. "Oh, and one last thing, after you leap, twirl on your toes and lean backward." she nodded her head numbly, worried she would fail in front of him.

"Don't worry, I will be there to catch you. I will be performing a different form next to you." her eyes never left him as she watched him move across the room with her and as she leaped his arms trailed hers, and he caught her in his arms.

She felt electric pulses triggering at his touch, and she turned around slowly, reluctant to remove her shoulders from his chest. She hadn't even noticed how heavily she was breathing, and she was worried he heard how excited she had gotten in the thirty minutes they had been rehearsing. She looked away and untangled her arms from his, realizing she needed to get back. Then she also realized she had no idea how to get back.

"I have to leave... I have rehearsal tomorrow morning-" he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I will take care of it, after all," he said with a smile,"this is my opera."

He held a black gloved hand, and she took it. He guided her back to the dormitories, and when she had reached her door he released her.

"I will expect you at the stage at six thirty tomorrow morning. I am going to start training you for a play I have written. I have been waiting for someone who was good enough to play the part, and you are who I have chosen. And don't worry about your rehearsals for their showing, from now on, my show is all you need worry about." and with that he left her in quite the same way her managers had.

She undressed, wishing she had her sister here to undo the lace on her corset. She sighed, her fingers working as hard as they could on the stiff laces. Somehow she must have pulled it right, for it was off and she was free to put on her nightgown. No one else was in the dormitories and she assumed they must still be in rehearsal.

She slipped into the soft sheets, and the last thoughts were of a black silk ribbon on a rose and a masked man holding her in his arms...

, she thought determinedly. She walked down and back through the halls and found the door to the stage.

She walked down the stairs, and stepped onto the stage. She found the rose, where it had dropped. She knelt and stroked the black silk of the flower, and heard the stage curtains rustle from an unknown wind and she stood and was about to run when a man's voice echoed through the opera.

" Your dance was beautiful, so very beautiful...I have been watching you move!"

She returned in kind, only changing her tune.

"Phantom of music, who speaks to me? Hide from me no longer."

"Innocent child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide. Come to the curtain draw nearer, I am there inside!"

She gasped as a cloaked figure swirled his cape and revealed himself from the black of the curtain. He was wearing a white mask on the right side of his face, and she knew. It was all true! There before her stood the phantom of the opera...

Slinking along the shadows he made his way toward her, and his eyes never left hers. She took in a nervous breath and asked a fateful question.

"Are you the phantom of the opera?"

Subtly was his specialty, and he answered her question with a statement.

"You have come here, to dance in my opera house and yet you do not know your master? Your master...

Marie looked him straight in the eyes, her heart pounding.

"And what might your name be Master?" The girl asked anxiously, worried that she had angered her managers boss.

"My name is Erik." he said quietly. Christine had never asked him what his name was, nor did it seem like she would be asking him anytime soon.

"Forgive me if I frightened you child, I was watching your performance, and there is something I should very much like to show you." he held out his hand and he walked her toward center stage.

"There is a move that I think will be helpful for you. Do the leap you did once more, only before jump, twirl on the tips of your toes then leap." she did as he commanded, and as soon as she did she walked back to him. She was glad to see approval gleam in his eyes as she walked back.

"Now, do the leap as I showed you, only add another move. Do the the toe twirl, leap midair, then in the middle of the leap split." he commanded. "Oh, and one last thing, after you leap, twirl on your toes and lean backward." she nodded her head numbly, worried she would fail in front of him.

"Don't worry, I will be there to catch you. I will be performing a different form next to you." her eyes never left him as she watched him move across the room with her and as she leaped his arms trailed hers, and he caught her in his arms.

She felt electric pulses triggering at his touch, and she turned around slowly, reluctant to remove her shoulders from his chest. She hadn't even noticed how heavily she was breathing, and she was worried he heard how excited she had gotten in the thirty minutes they had been rehearsing. She looked away and untangled her arms from his, realizing she needed to get back. Then she also realized she had no idea how to get back.

"I have to leave... I have rehearsal tomorrow morning-" he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I will take care of it, after all," he said with a smile,"this is my opera."

He held a black gloved hand, and she took it. He guided her back to the dormitories, and when she had reached her door he released her.

"I will expect you at the stage at six thirty tomorrow morning. I am going to start training you for a play I have written. I have been waiting for someone who was good enough to play the part, and you are who I have chosen. And don't worry about your rehearsals for their showing, from now on, my show is all you need worry about." and with that he left her in quite the same way her managers had.

She undressed, wishing she had her sister here to undo the lace on her corset. She sighed, her fingers working as hard as they could on the stiff laces. Somehow she must have pulled it right, for it was off and she was free to put on her nightgown. No one else was in the dormitories and she assumed they must still be in rehearsal.

She slipped into the soft sheets, and the last thoughts were of a black silk ribbon on a rose and a masked man holding her in his arms...


	4. Chapter 3

** Choose Chapter 3**

**Marie's POV**

Marie woke to a gentle and warm hand caressing her cheek. It was too dark too see anything, and she dozed off at the warmth of it's touch. She murmured as she felt herself being lifted from the heat of the sheets, and felt her head resting on someone's arm. She quickly dozed back off to sleep, breathing in the musky smell of a man mingled with the scents of cinnamon and parchment.

When she finally woke, she found herself somewhere she didn't recognize. And she didn't know why she wasn't in her bed in the dormitories, and it was then that she remembered being lifted ever so gently from her bed, and remembered the sweet smell of a stranger's arm. She jolted upright; and as she did, something soft slipped of her arm. She pulled it up close and breathed in it's bewitching scent, wondering who the mystery man was.

Suddenly, a cloaked figure walked towards her, and she remembered the strange rehearsal she had last night. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered why he might have brought her here. _Wherever here is... _she thought curiously. She shivered and pulled the cloak closer to her. Then, he did the strangest thing. He kneeled in front of her, removed the glove from his right hand and felt her forehead.

"No, you certainly won't be doing much for a while." he murmured to himself. He place a hand behind her waist and positioned her down trying to soothe her.

"Lie down it's all right, you just need to rest." his voice sounded like silk, and she was so tired she couldn't resist giving in to the urge to listen to him. He helped her to lay back down and covered her with the cloak, carefully tucking her in. Marie felt a slight prick in her arm, and as soon she closed her eyes, blackness engulfed her.

**Erik's POV **

Erik was gathering his things, getting ready for the girl's rehearsal.

_You idiot_. he admonished himself. _You didn't even ask for her name_. He had been too busy admiring how well she could dance for him, he had totally forgotten to ask her what her name was. Not that he didn't already know her name, he had heard those two idiots say her name several times when showing her around, he was merely angry that he been too _occupied..._

_Doesn't matter now,_ he sighed. _Better go get the girl_. He went through a secret entrance to the dormitories, and carefully picked his way through the sleeping girls. When he caught site of Marie, he smiled down at her sleeping figure. He slowly brought his hand to her cheek, and stroked it. The moment he touched it, he felt his hand go hot. He removed his glove and felt her forehead. She moaned a little. Her skin was burning up. Panic throbbed in his veins for a split second but he forced himself to be calm.

_You'll just have to take care of her yourself_. He gently removed her from the bed, and silently cursed the people who ran his opera house. _Can't they tell when someone is sick? _a voice inside him raged. He carried her in his arms to his home, where he knew he would have the tools to take care of her there. He laid her down on a bed and placed his cloak around her, not wanting to smother her with blankets. He went to go gather some medicines when he heard her stir.

She looked around with fear in her eyes, no doubt wondering where she was and how she got there. He went over to her and checked her temperature. It was no use, the ice pack he had placed on her forehead had not lowered her fever. He didn't have a choice, he would have to administer the medicine to her. He placed his hand behind her, attempting to position her into laying down. He tried to comfort her with soft words. Coaxing her to lie down. His voice seemed to calm her and she laid back down. He placed the cloak very tightly around her before administering the medicine. She Le out a small moan and fell into a deep sleep.

He had administered a blood coolant which contained a sedative to help calm frayed nerves. Her fever had been raging one hundred and four for the past hour, and would not die down. Her body was in a somewhat stressed state, and the sedative should help her to relax.

He stroked her hair and went about making some tea for himself while he waited for her to wake up. Ultimately he needed to think of a good reason for bringing her here. Not for her, but for himself. Normally he found the company of other humans less than agreeable, but something in him softened when he looked over at Marie's sleeping form, watching the rise and fall of her chest. He was almost content to keep her there forever...


	5. Chapter 4

** Chapter 4**

**Marie's POV **

Marie tossed and turned, she was drenched in sweat. She fought to catch her breath as her body convulsed, and she was racked with shivering, even though she was burning up. She cried out in her sleep. She was having a nightmare.

_ Marie's dream_

_She walked a dark corridor, followed by a masked figure. They reached the stage and she went to the middle, waiting on Erik's music cue. The music starts and she twirls and leaps. Erik is on the stairs waiting to ascend for his part of the dance, when something goes horribly wrong, she misses her footing and slips. The crowd becomes enraged, and the people turn from innocent bystanders to hideous monsters with teeth and claws trying to tear her apart. The music changes melodies, it now plays a mocking carnival theme. She turns to run when something grabs her hands and spins her around. She looks up into Erik's face and-_

Marie woke up with a choking gasp, trying to catch her breath, as she looked into Erik's face. He hushed her and placed a cold rag on her face. Marie gasped again at the temperature of the rag and how icy it felt. She sat up, her muscles protesting. She put a hand on her head, and felt the heat radiating from her forehead.

"What am I doing here? Where am I?" she moaned. Instead of answering right away, Erik placed a pillow behind her back in an attempt to make her more comfortable.

"How are you feeling my dear?" he inquired. She could see he was avoiding the answer but she answered his question anyway, too tired to play games.

"Hot and sweaty and I ache all over." she groaned. Her head felt like it had a pound of bricks inside of it.

"You've caught a nasty virus." he informed her. "You are going to be staying with me for a while. I promise I will explain everything to you after you've recovered, but for now you need to rest." he assured her. She sat up in protest, but he firmly pushed her back down. She sighed, knowing he wouldn't let her sit up until she recovered. She closed her eyes, and felt him wrapping the blanket loosely around her shoulders.

She fell asleep, and her sleep was fitful. Nightmares of failing haunted her, and she whimpered in her sleep.

**Erik's POV**

The girl was sicker than he thought. She had developed pnemoaunia over the night. He sighed. He knew why. The girl had no warm clothes, and the snow had caused her to catch the flu, which developed into pnemoania. He had no way of draining the fluid from her lungs. But he would keep her there until the infection was gone. He knew the girl would have no money to be taken to the infirmary.

_I could probably treat her better than those halfwitted, unsympathetic morons who call themselves doctors anyway_. he thought with a snort. He checked her temperature again, this time alarmed to find that her cheeks were cold. He went to his bedroom, and pulled out an extra blanket. He carefully placed the blanket over her, feeling a tingle on his hand as it touched her skin. He jerked his hand back, silently cursing the fact that he got excited every time he touched her.

_She's just a girl_. he reminded himself. _You're working yourself up over something that's_ _**never**_ _going to happen_. He pulled himself to his feet and walked over to his organ. A terribly intense melody was tugging at his mind, urging for it to be written. He hummed the melody softly, thinking of the perfect words to accompany the dramatic tune.

_Choose your destiny_

_fate alone is yours_

_when you throw away the key_

_and push open the doors_

_ your heart will never open_

_if you keep it ever locked _

_and love can never enter_

_if it only ever knocks_


End file.
